


{Prologue}

by MintySquirrel



Series: Loved [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Thor (2011), Cursed Loki, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:51:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintySquirrel/pseuds/MintySquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div>
  <p>There is nothing Thor would not do to save his brother. When Loki starts to succumb to a curse that threatens to thwart his capacity to love, Thor is determined to break it, whatever the cost. </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	{Prologue}

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Loveless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/869533) by [asaloki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaloki/pseuds/asaloki). 



> [Tumblr](http://mintysquirrel.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This drabble is part of Loved; a companion collection to Loveless by [Waldostiel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/waldostiel/pseuds/waldostiel/), and takes place immediately before the events of Loveless: Prologue.

** Prologue **

Of all the great halls of the nine realms, Valaskjálf, with her dense walls of solid silver and decorated pillars, is by far the most beautiful Thor has ever seen. From the outside, the hall is deceptive, almost entirely overwhelmed by the grandiose of the surrounding citadel that stands as a majestic monument to the prosperity of the realm under the great All-Father’s reign. Vast marble towers topped with golden rooftops stretch out to the sky in every direction, separated by magnificent gardens that are said to have been blessed to bloom eternal by the Lady Freyja herself. The Gladsheim, where the All-Father presides over the Council of Asgard, dwarfs the smaller Valaskjálf completely, and the palace itself is unmatched by any for its intricate architecture and superfluous splendour. However, none of these places compare in Thor’s eyes to Valaskjálf, to the seat of the Gods. 

Only once has Thor ever set foot inside her doors, on the day he left the remnants of his boyhood behind and became Odin’s chosen heir. He remembers the feel of the cool metal under his fingers and the sound of his boots on the smooth crystal floor. Beneath him, light had danced through the glass along fragile veins, refracting at angles to bathe the chamber in a shower of iridescence. He remembers the weight of his father’s hand on his shoulder as he looked up at the platform and ascended the first step towards Hlidskjalf. He remembers how the high seat of Asgard felt beneath his palms when he lowered himself onto it, how the energy rippled through his body, filling him with excitement and terror all at the same time. But mostly…Mostly he remembers _seeing_. Eyes wide as he simply watched. Everything in all the world. Worlds even. All at once. The brief glimpse of eternity had filled him with unprecedented wonder and awe. Until he blacked out. 

When he came to, Thor found himself alone in his chambers. Though he saw it was dark outside, he knew not the exact hour. As he bounded into his brother’s room, however, he would not have cared had it been midnight or midday. Eagerly, he’d roused his startled sibling, and told him all he could remember, of the lights, the chair, the _seeing_. At first, Loki had observed him with the indulgent idolisation that Thor had become accustomed to from his dear younger brother. Slowly, though, as Thor recited his tale, the smile on his brother’s face left his eyes. The reverence had been replaced with something else. Something inscrutable. When finally he finished his story, the two sat in silence and Thor looked to his brother expectantly. 

“It sounds incredible, Thor, but then, I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh, it is beautiful. Inspiring, Brother! You will see it soon. When you have come of age, you will see, as I have. Truly _see!_ ”

Loki looked away then, a strange, rueful smile playing on his lips that Thor could not quite place.  
“It is late, Thor. I am tired.”

“Of course.” Thor had responded, abashed. “I am sorry. Goodnight, Brother. We will speak more of this on the morrow.”

They never did. 

Something had changed in that moment, though Thor did not realise it for many months. He had been chosen as Odin’s heir, which meant Loki had not. His younger brother would not be taken to Valaskjálf as he had; he would not sit on Hlidskjalf and watch the realms as Thor had done. They had begun down separate paths. 

Thor thinks on the bittersweet memory as he passes the silver hall. Loki will be in the library, no doubt, buried deep in one of his arduous tomes. Thor has been tasked with escorting his little brother to the evening’s feast. 

He knows Loki will not be pleased.


End file.
